


He'll Read the Signs and Draw the Lines (That Are Sometimes Made to Break)

by Lady_Anakin



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Boba Fett, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Anakin/pseuds/Lady_Anakin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boba Fett has an obsession and he can't seem to shake it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He'll Read the Signs and Draw the Lines (That Are Sometimes Made to Break)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift for my wife, Aunna/lady-Fett1138 of our favorite and not quite well known pairing of Boba and Anakin. I'm also poking fun to the fact that she basically stalked me in High School when we first became friends. I love you Aunna!  
> *title from High Adventure's song "The Game of Boba Fett"

 

 

Boba Fett was no stranger to Anakin Skywalker after the battle of Geonosis. He knew his face after he witnessed him fight off a reek and nexu while rescuing his friends; at ten years old, Boba was impressed but kept it to himself, for he knew his father’s opinion on Jedi. The galaxy’s peace keepers were the reason Jango Fett’s father had died; he had passed this hate down to his son, and little did he know that Boba would learn to hate the Jedi for taking his father away from him as well; save for one Jedi.

 

Anakin was different, Boba learned as he kept track of him through the holo-net, cheering for him as others did, even though Boba was on neither side of the war. The Jedi Padawan-cum-Knight seemed different than the other Jedi, not bound by their dogmatic views. The day he came face-to-face to Anakin, however, was bad timing; he had only infiltrated the Clone Cadets to kill Mace Windu, the Jedi who had killed his father. His actions had hurt Anakin, leaving him to be crushed under the wreckage of the ship, disappointment in his eyes but he kept his own eyes averted.  He could not let Aurra see him weak, so he pretended not to care. He was happy that Anakin had survived. He spent his time in jail worrying about Anakin’s opinion of him, but after he broke out, he left it behind and concentrated on making a name for himself. He wasn’t giving up on getting revenge on Windu, but knew he would have to become stronger first.

 

Amongst his jobs for Jabba the Hutt, he found himself in the middle of a firefight between the Republic and CIS, each side firing on him. Asajj Ventress targeted him and almost defeated him before an angel in a yellow starfighter came to his rescue ... and then attempted to arrest him for trespassing Republic space. Anakin remembered him, to Boba’s dismay, even though his heart jumped into his throat. When they landed on Xagobah’s moon, Anakin demanded that Boba exited his ship. Still, he hesitated, debating whether to leave his helmet on or take it off and let Anakin see his face.

 

“EXIT YOUR SHIP OR I WILL FIRE!” Even without the help of the comm system, Anakin’s voice held authority.

 

No time to think, then. He descended the ramp, helmet attached to his belt and his hands up. Anakin exited his fighter. “You’re lucky to be alive, Boba Fett.” His tone was without malice, however, and he had a friendly smile on his face. “Your ship’s damaged.” His attention turned to it entirely as he walked past Boba. And at that, Boba knew that a friendship had started.

 

As they talked (and Anakin worked), Boba shared with him that he had information that the Chancellor needed to hear, information which would help gain him a pardon from the Republic. Anakin agreed, and with this, Boba learned that Skywalker was fond of second chances. “You still tried to kill two Jedi. But you just don’t have the right guidance.”

 

Boba scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t like being treated like a kid, but there was something comforting about having Anakin on his side. “I understand the need for revenge,” Anakin continued, his focus on the ship more acute now.

 

“But Jedi don’t believe in revenge,” Boba mocked. Anakin responded by aggressively tightening a bolt, and Boba took that as a cue to let the fascinating – and confusing - Jedi be. 

 

Back in Slave I, Boba worked on fixing and repainting his armor, his mind wandering. He found he was impressed by Anakin - no, more than impressed. He found himself feeling something foreign for the older man. He pushed the thoughts away and focused on his work until it was finished. With newly painted armor at last, he came back out of his ship to see Anakin’s work.

 

“The wing’s all fixed up,” Anakin said with a satisfactory grin on his face and a smudge of engine oil on his cheek, right beneath his bright blue eyes. Those eyes snagged Boba first. They were endless and deep like the oceans of Kamino. Anakin felt like home.

 

Boba should have slid his repainted helmet, no longer the steel blue of his father's but forest green, back onto his head, but he left it hanging there on his belt. He would have never have been able to press his lips against Anakin's so gently with the helmet on, after all. Still, it didn't start out that way: He opened his mouth to thank him, and found himself caught in those eyes again, words escaping him. Anakin looked right back and Boba drowned. Time slowed as he stepped closer and went to his toes, cursing his height and age at only twelve years old. He only meant to only brush his lips lightly against Anakin's, and yet, he pressed firmly as he balanced himself. Anakin’s lips were soft and perfect for kissing, Boba mused. He'd never kissed anyone like this before, but it was better than he imagined. His mind wandered; he wanted to rake his gloved fingers through Anakin’s golden hair, and he wanted to feel the tight muscles beneath his Jedi garments. He wanted him, he realized. He opened his mouth slightly, feeling that it was the correct thing to do then, and Anakin’s lips opened in response just slightly. His heart fluttered - this was happening! Before he knew it, however, Anakin was pushing him away, confusion on his face. Boba swore he hadn't imagined his lips moving.

 

“Um, thanks. Or, er ... you’re welcome. Let’s go," Anakin said a slight smirk and a shrug as he clamored back into his yellow starfighter. Boba turned away, a lump in his throat, as he returned to his newly fixed ship and followed the man who had changed his life forever.

 

*

 

It was that one kiss that sparked an obsession in the young bounty hunter. He told himself that it was an accident or that he had done it to thank Anakin, but that kiss was many unsaid words and answers to questions that young Boba still sought.

 

He was depressed, and over a blasted Jedi. His father would be completely disappointed in him, fantasizing being with the enemy and letting it distract from his main objective. He would have to change his focus back to the other Jedi in his sights. Windu still had to die - he killed Jedi, not loved them. Avoiding his obsession made him dream about it, however. It was always a replay of their first meeting: Anakin’s smile, and then that smile disappeared. And those eyes ...

 

It hadn't even been Boba’s first kiss. That honor belonged to a boy named Luren, back on Tatooine. After Jango's death, Boba had found himself on Tatooine; it was the planet his father told him to run to in case anything happened to him. Jabba accepted him and put him to work. The palace was his new home; he made friends, and he met people who would help him reach his goals, people who supported him to become the bounty hunter his father once was. An outside contract had a son a few years older than him, and Boba liked him. He'd never had a friend his age before. He had never known any boy other than the ones with his father's face who were genetically engineered to be soldiers.

 

It had been a peck on the cheek and they'd held hands until Luren's father saw them. He took his child away, and Boba lost his contract. Maybe he followed too closely in his father’s footsteps sometimes - Jango had been with men, after all, though maybe the rules were different for him for some reason. Nonetheless, it had been his first failure without his father there, and Boba awoke rubbing away tears as the memory played across his mind. He would let himself see Anakin one last time and then he would move on, he promised himself.

 

*

 

A year passed and the Jedi was still on his mind. He took any job on Coruscant for the off chance he would run into Anakin for that one last look, and if he could possibly catch Mace Windu and avenge his father at the same time, so much the better. Revenge was first on his list, his Jedi was second, or so he told himself. He was also aware that both of them were Generals in the war and off-planet most of the time, but he didn’t have the time to be chasing them all over the galaxy, and he knew he would be able to catch both of them eventually if he was patient. He was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, after all – or soon would be.

 

Coruscant was a perfect temporary home with plenty of bounties, which equaled a steady income and a running ship. Boba still missed Tatooine sometimes, if only for his friend Yagabba and her father, Gab’borah, but he was content with receiving jobs from Jabba by holo instead of in person. Coruscant wasn’t also only better than Tatooine, but Anakin was here often, and thanks to a few credits here and there, the rumors he heard about where Anakin frequented on his leaves to be true. In particular, General Skywalker was a frequent visitor to 500 Republica - and he was back tonight.

 

Boba knew he himself was a talented hunter, but stalking out the senatorial apartment complex was just as stupid, if not more so, as casing the Senate building itself. He felt that it was worth the risk, however; maybe this time, he would be brave enough to talk to Anakin. At the very least, he didn’t think that kidnapping him would be the right foot to start off on. With his stalking of his Jedi, he learned more about him, including that the rumors on the holo-net were mostly true. He was truly fearless; brave, if not sometimes stupid, but his heart was in the right place. Most of this, Boba did not view himself, but heard secondhand from stories told by men with his father’s face as he sat a table away, trying to appear old enough to drink at that particular establishment before he was kicked out. He was infatuated with a fairy tale character, but he knew Anakin was real. Those lips, at least, were real.

 

Back at 500 Republica, he lowered his targeting scope and waited until ... there he was. “Why are you sneaking off here?” he wondered out loud as he always did, helmet output off so he wouldn’t give away his position. He focused on a yellow speeder built for speed that cruised into the garage, piloted by none other than his beloved Jedi, his curls dancing in the air current. Boba got to his feet and activated his jet pack, and then jetted to the garage, the roar of his power cells carried away by the wind and traffic outside the high rise, eventually landing a handful of support beams away from his target.

 

Anakin quickly exited the speeder, looking around him, not spotting Boba. “Sloppy, you’re better than that!” Boba hissed, and then quieted. He was being sloppy himself, he realized. Not being spotted worked in his favor better than the alternative would. Taking a deep breath to refocus, he began to stalk his prey, this time sure that the Jedi would not be able to sense him unless he was looking for him.

 

The only thing that seemed to be on the Jedi’s mind was his destination, however. Boba had yet to learn what that was exactly; every other time, he had cut his pursuit short once Anakin reached the lift. His lack of bravery, which he found personally pathetic, stopped him from pursuing. He had to be as brave as Anakin to succeed, he knew. Tonight would be the night he would follow further. It would be dangerous but it could be done, and fairly easily, at that. The first night he'd stalked his Jedi, he had commandeered a small cleaning droid and accessed the schematics to the building. He knew every room, every floor, nook, and cranny. Taking note of which lift Anakin was waiting at, he popped off a ceiling tile and pulled himself up, and then made his way to the top of the lift, just in time holding on for dear life as it made its quick ascent up the levels. During his little trip, he wasn't even a meter away from his not-so-innocent crush.

 

Bringing up the floor plans on his helmet HUD, he calculated where they were heading to: The penthouse that belonged to the Senator of the Chromell sector, Padmé Amidala. His heart dropped at the realization, or perhaps it was just his body reacting to the lift coming to a stop. Regardless, there was a pang in his chest. Was Anakin with this woman? No, he could not let that deter him. Boba Fett always got his man. Anakin was his; he just didn’t know it yet.

 

He listened for the telltale sounds of the lift doors sliding open and Anakin’s heavy boots hitting the carpet. At that, he quickly crawled over to the ceiling and readied himself to pull the tile out and drop down; sliding it over just a smidge revealed a sliver of the top of Anakin’s head, which quickly looked up at the small sound that the moving tile made. Quickly, he pushed it back and held his ground, heart pounding. This was it. No more spying; time to come clean. What would he say? “Sorry I’ve been stalking you?”  Could he flatter him? Would Anakin show interest at Boba’s clumsy attempts at a relationship with him? Don’t be ridiculous, he told himself.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Suddenly, the Jedi began murmuring out loud to himself: “I need sleep.” Then there was the click of a door unlocking.

 

Boba hissed out a breath. That had been close. Securing the tile back in place, he changed his plan and crawled a few more meters forward, now in the penthouse. Moving a new tile aside, he found the coast was clear in the entry way, and he dropped down silently, as he had been trained to do. The tail end of Anakin’s robes had just whipped around the corner.

 

He was so close; he played with the idea of grappling with him; Anakin wouldn’t be able to use his height against him tonight, not with how exhausted he looked. Boba could tie him up and bringing him back to Slave I, throw him in the holding cell and leave the planet. Kidnapping the Hero With No Fear would be a very foolish thing for him to do, however. The Galactic Army of the Republic would be after him before he could jump out of Republic space. Not to mention, Anakin would probably never return his feelings after that. Boba hated himself a little for even thinking of taking him. He wanted Anakin to love him back of his own will, though if Anakin was with this senator, he probably had no chance anyways. How would he ever even be attracted to a boy like him?

 

He remembered when was eight, he'd woken from a nightmare that he had far too often: That he would be forgotten by his father, lost amongst the other children with his face. He ran to his father’s bedroom and the door had slid open. “Dad!” little Boba had cried, and then stopped in his tracks.

 

“Boba? Get out!” Jango had said it with so much anger. What Boba saw, his young mind could not completely process at the time. A naked male Twi’lek was beneath his equally naked father. Boba ran.

 

It wasn’t long before Jango, now fully dressed, found his only child hiding in Slave I, his pajamas and tousled curls soaked from the rain. He couldn’t tell the difference from the rain drops on his face and his tears. His son stifled a whimper. “Boba, what’s wrong?” Jango asked as he got down to his boy’s level.

 

“You yelled.” He broke down and let out a sniffle, and then began hiccuping from fighting back tears.

 

“I was surprised," Jango said lightly with relief. “You are not in trouble.”

 

“What were you doing?” he wiped his eyes, starting to calm down now that he knew his father was not angry.

 

At this, Jango did not have a readied answer, but knowing that the truth when it came to his son was best, he eventually found the words to explain: “I was having sex.”

 

“With a boy?” Boba was ahead of his studies and had already gotten to sexual education.

 

“Yes. I’m gay.”

 

“Gay?” Boba’s studies hadn't covered that much.

 

“It means I would rather have relationships with men than women.”

 

And Boba accepted that answer, as he accepted anything his father told him.

 

During his free time on Kamino, which he had a lot of when his dad was off on the hunt, he snuck around the cloning facility spying on the Clones, sneaking extra helpings of food from the kitchens, and sometimes pretending to be one of the genetically engineered children to whom he could show off his advanced skills. He always saw himself as superior to them. He was Jango Fett’s son and they were only his by-products.  Jango wanted him to be unaltered so he could be raised like a normal child, as his heir, but as he watched the other boys grow up, he didn’t feel so different. Some boys had the same habits as his father and him.

 

He continued his charade to learn more. In his studies, he further learned that homosexuality was largely based on nature, not nurture, and in the cloning process, the clone would take on all aspects of the host, such as being left-handed or right. Boba dug around a little more and eventually found out that the Kaminoins tried to breed out homosexuality, among other things. He questioned if his father knew, or if he cared. Jango Fett didn’t get emotionally attached to anything or anyone, after all. (Except for his son, perhaps.) This was just another job.

 

As he observed the Clones closely, he learned that the Kaminoans' selective breeding did not work as well as they hoped. He witnessed many boys his age hold each other's hands just for a second in the hallways. Whispers at the lunch tables from the older Clones reached his ears as they would leave two-by-two and come back with smiles on their identical faces. Still, there were enough men complaining that they needed women on Kamino to indicate to Boba that the Kaminoans were at least slightly successful. In any case, this also indicated to Boba that he himself must also be gay, since he was perfectly exactly like his father. It was how he explained to himself his attraction to Luren, and now, to Anakin.

           

He now had to find out for sure how much of a chance he had (or didn't) with Anakin. Still, he kept to the shadows for the moment, waiting to see where Anakin would go after the sitting room. The Jedi didn’t stop to turn on the lights, or to activate the golden protocol droid that was powered down in the corner. He made his way into the hallway, and Boba stepped into the sitting room, waiting for his Jedi to enter the bedroom and confirm his fears. He followed closer and waited ... but for what, he asked himself. For confirmation that Anakin and this Senator Amidala were together? There was a slim chance they were just friends. He wanted so badly to believe that.

 

“Oh Ani, you’re home!” that must have been Padmé, her voice muffled by the walls and from sleep; and that was enough confirmation for Boba. He made his way out by the open balcony, tears stinging his eyes.

 

*

 

He didn't sleep after that, his obsession depressing him and making him question himself. The next morning, he returned to follow Anakin (one last time, he swore), hopefully away from Padmé. His hopes were raised when the General's path led him to the Clone barracks, which was only slightly less painful than seeing Anakin with someone else. It depended on the day whether seeing his father’s face affected him; the more emotionally strained he was, the more it hurt. As he watched Anakin converse and even joke with his men, it made his heart grow fonder.

 

"... You still owe me a drink.” One of the pilots approached Anakin.

 

“I thought we were even since the last mission, I brought down at least five more fighters than you.”

 

“Ah, but sir, you forget, I got the final shot on the frigate.”

 

“I don’t recall that being part of the deal.”

 

“And in its explosion, it took out at least three fighters, making my total twenty eight. You owe me a drink.”

 

Anakin laughed. “Fine, Matchstick, you’re right.”

 

Anakin treated them like they were people. Anakin treated Boba’s blood better than he did. He wondered what his father would think of that. More than once, he'd fantasized about bringing Anakin home to meet Jango, even though he realized that would never end well, even if his father was still alive.

 

His father ... could he ever forgive him?

 

When he was ten, his father came home from Coruscant and took him fishing. He only ever took him fishing if he had bad news. Still, Boba accepted anything his father would tell him, even when it upset him.

 

Sure enough: “Zam’s dead.” Short, to the point, and always honest.

 

“Zam?” Boba fought back tears. Zam Wesell had been like a mother to him. He wished his father had a little bit more tact. He knew that Boba saw her as near-family, even if it irritated him with how often Boba asked if he and Zam would marry. In spite of how often Zam had tried, however, Jango simply wasn't interested.  “Why is she dead?” Boba had asked his father.

 

“I had to kill her,” Jango replied matter-of-factly. “She was going to give us away to the Jedi.” He helped his son reel in his fishing line; he was attempting to show sympathy.

 

Oh, the dreaded Jedi, the monsters in every story Jango shared with his son. His beloved Jedi wasn’t a monster though. He had to believe that.

 

The memory of Zam dissipated, and he returned his attention to his Jedi, only to find that Anakin and his men were now gone. “I need to see him just one more time, then I’ll move on," Boba told himself, and then he returned to his ship.

 

*

 

It was several months before he had another chance to cross paths with Anakin, and his timing was once again foolish. Coruscant had just been under attack after Chancellor Palpatine was kidnapped, and everyone was still on high alert, even with Palpatine rescued by no other than Skywalker. (He had forbidden himself from ever calling the General by his first name again.)

 

With the risk factor high, he nonetheless made his way to 500 Republica and jetted up to the penthouse apartment, staying out of sight of anyone who might be on the balcony, perching himself on the lip above it. The risk was worth it for the one last time (he swore this time) to see Skywalker. He was living dangerously, he knew; the Jedi and Padme were right there, talking on the balcony.

 

“... want to have our baby back on Naboo.” Baby? He scooted closer to get a better look.

 

“I know the perfect spot, by the gardens.” Padmé said as she brushed her hair, a pretty blue nightgown pulled tight against her round belly. Pregnant? In his shock he slipped, his leg hanging over the edge, but at that moment, Padme turned away and Boba tightened his grip successfully, though his stomach flipped.

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Anakin responded, and Boba knew for sure there was no more hope left for him. Anakin could never be his. He probably couldn't even technically be Padme's, though the fact that he had obviously gone to great lengths to be with her anyways was the crux of the difference between what had happened that day between him and Boba and the reality of what they were to one another. The only thing they'd shared was a kiss, and it obviously meant nothing to Anakin, even though it had meant everything to Boba.

 

He pushed himself off of the building then, flying upwards, eventually making his way back to his ship. He would leave Anakin to be happy; it was the right thing for him to do.

 

*

 

"Can we talk?” a familiar voice broke Boba’s concentration as he was doing a last check on the outside of Slave I before he took off again, wanting to leave Coruscant far behind him. Apparently, he would get one last chance after all.

 

“Skywalker,” he answered curtly trying not to smile at the fact that Anakin had been the one to come to him.

 

“Just a few minutes is all I need.” He looked tired, bags under his eyes and his hair tousled. “I know you’ve been following me,” Anakin said, not happy or unhappy about it. Boba didn’t need to fight off the smile any more after that - this was it. This was the rejection.

 

“Nothing needs to be said between us, Jedi. Maybe you should leave; don’t you have a parade in your honor to attend?” he sneered. Anger was easier than heartbreak.

 

Anakin look too tired to argue, he sighed. “It’s important for us to talk. Why have you been following me?”

 

Boba rolled his eyes and scoffed. “How big-headed are you?”

 

“I’m being serious. Tell me why.”

 

“For information.”

 

The look on Anakin’s face showed that he knew Boba wasn’t telling the truth. “Come on, Boba. Just tell me. I haven’t forgotten that thank-you kiss you gave me.” He walked closer to the ship then, gloved mechno hand caressing the paneling, admiring the exterior. “I remember when I fixed her for you.” He looked at Boba again. “I ever remember the kiss.” He pushed on.

 

“It was more than a thank you,” Boba snapped.

 

“Yeah, I figured with you stalking me. I’m flattered, to be honest, but I’m too old for you, kid.”

 

“Is that all that you have issue with?” Boba’s voice was suddenly light with hope.

 

The Jedi nodded. “Among other things.”

 

“Such as?”

 

Anakin's face was shuttered again. “None of your business.”

 

That last ray of hope was gone just as quickly as it had come. “Is it your pregnant senator?" Anakin looked enraged, and Boba worked quickly to reassure him: "Don’t worry, I won’t spill your secret.”

 

Anakin cooled down again fairly quickly. “Maybe in a different life it could have happened. I’m sorry to have led you along all this time.” Anakin sounded sincere. “I’m sorry to see a friend go.”

 

Boba tried not to laugh in disgust at himself. “Don’t. I’m over it.” He wanted to get out of there now quickly. “You’ll never have to see me again.” With that, he boarded his ship, and Anakin watched him depart. It was the last time he saw his Jedi.

 

*

 

The war tore the galaxy apart and an Empire emerged, but the change did not affect Boba, other than give him even more jobs. He married young to a woman he wasn’t sure he loved, anything to separate himself from his father. They had a daughter, whom he adored. It felt like the right thing to do, and the occasional thoughts about Anakin were pushed away and hidden. He tried hard to keep his marriage intact to prove he could, remembering his pseudo mothers, Aurra and Zam, and how he would have been lost without at least some of their guidance - the guidance his father tried so hard to keep from him.

 

Then his 'normal' life was torn apart, resulting in him being kicked off of Concordia and his wife divorcing him, even though his 'crime' was killing the man who had disrespected her in the worst way. No longer allowed to see his daughter made his heart turn into stone; no more would he love, he decided. Maybe his father was right after all, keeping him from having a mother. Maybe Boba should have not expected his father to change who he was just so his son could feel 'normal.' Following your heart was more important than normalcy; he knew that now. Still, if he obeyed his own heart, only pain would follow; ergo, he buried himself fully in his bounty hunting, because it hurt the least.

 

The excitement and thrill of the chase became his new normalcy. Near-death experiences did not faze him; rather, his focus on his work kept him alive. He was even chosen by the fearsome Lord Vader, a towering man with a masked face who was as powerful as the long-gone Jedi from his past. It was well known that Vader had brought upon the end of the Jedi Order. This was a man whose ideologies matched his in that sense, and he accepted the work gladly. Likewise, working for the Empire paid well. He could do worse, he knew.

 

A few jobs in, Vader requested that they meet in person at his fortress retreat on the shoreline of the Great Western Sea of Coruscant and he obeyed. The Great Western Sea was a derelict place after the war, the buildings abandoned and falling apart. Boba wondered why Vader would choose this place to have a retreat; a man of his power could have his own private place anywhere he wanted. He reached the top of the building where the Dark Lord had instructed him to come. It was an empty and dark chamber. Boba’s hand rested on his blaster, waiting for an attack. Did Vader want to challenge his favorite bounty hunter? He almost didn’t see him, blended into the darkness, black on black; only the telltale glow from his chest piece and ominous breathing gave him away.

 

“I’m not here to attack you, Fett.” Vader’s deep voice said in a surprisingly assuring tone.

 

Boba still did not relax, but he stepped closer to the middle of the room where Vader stood, and nodded his head in respect. He knew all others bowed in fear to Darth Vader, and Boba knew well of his employer’s wrath; and yet, his throat continued to go untouched by Vader's Force grip, though he feared this was the last time that would be true. And yet, Vader kept true to his word and did not attack; rather, he began walking shoulder to shoulder with Boba in silence. None of this eased the hunter’s mind.

 

“You’re talented, Fett.” He finally spoke again. “We are much alike. I am glad to have met you again.”

 

“Again?” They had met before only over holo-comm. He didn't understand.

 

Vader clarified: “Face to face ... or mask to mask, that is.” At that, a mechanical sound filled the chamber, and the echoing click of lights above them turned on; a gas filled the room. “Just leave your filters on and you’ll be fine,” Vader demanded, before Boba had time to react, and he decided to trust him when Vader brought his large gloved hands up to the lip of his domed helmet and pulled it off. From the ceiling, a mechanical arm descended to clutch it, and a second one followed for the mask he gently took off of his face. The movement revealed extensive burn scars. His eyes met Boba’s. They were a deep blue, as deep as Kamino’s oceans. They were the eyes that reminded him of home.

 

“Anakin?” Boba said breathlessly.

 

“No," Vader replied in a whisper, his windpipe damaged by smoke. “He’s dead now.”

 

Boba was speechless. “But ..." he finally said, and then trailed off.

 

Vader's thin scarred lips cracked into a slight smile, but it was gone as soon as it was there, a ghost of a memory. “I wanted you to know. Please don’t leave my side.”

 

And Boba knew the truth then: He may have never gotten his Jedi, but he would have his Sith. He got down on one knee and bowed. “As you wish.”


End file.
